


If only i could win this lot

by skullage



Category: Block B
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Biting, Choking, Come play, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Edging, Face-Fucking, Feeding, Fingering, Flogging, Food Kink, Frottage, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Penetrative Sex, Praise Kink, Restraints, Rimming, Size Kink, Spanking, Toys, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:49:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullage/pseuds/skullage
Summary: Kyung won't hold his hand.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the pairings are explicitly B-Bomb/everyone but endgame B-Bomb/Kyung and then everyone/everyone
> 
> here are the list of kinks by part and in order in case anyone wants to skip any -- I've tried to be diligent but if I've missed any please let me know:  
> Taeil: frottage, dirty talk, anal sex;  
> Jaehyo: jealousy, frottage, oral sex, masturbation, voyeurism;  
> Yukwon & Jihoon: crossdressing, orgasm denial, blowjobs, come play, size kink, begging, frottage, praise kink, fingering;  
> Jiho: oral fixation, eye contact, food kink, fingering, feeding, rimming, biting, praise kink, facefucking;  
> Kyung: orgasm denial, toys, bdsm, spanking, edging, biting, restraints, choking, flogging;
> 
> please keep in mind that this is fiction and not to be taken in any way as an accurate portrayal of bdsm

Kyung won’t hold his hand. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not the worst that’s ever happened, and Minhyuk tries to rationalise that to himself. But when Kyung pulls away for the third time during the recording, Minhyuk can’t deny that it stings. He says his lines with a smile on his face and tries not to notice how Kyung gazes at Jiho when he talks, how he laughs at Jaehyo’s joke that Minhyuk doesn’t even hear, how he pushes Yukwon into a corner and whispers in his ear. It’s a trend that continues for a few weeks, Kyung shying away from him, the two of them never in the same room even when Minhyuk seeks him out.

It’s not the end of the world, but it feels like rejection, and Minhyuk doesn’t deal well with rejection.

Backstage at the DMC Festival, he’s suffering. He usually likes to rub one out before going onstage, but lately the only thing that gets him off is the thought of Kyung’s hands, which are off limits now. He’s all but crawling out of his skin, finger on the basin, staring himself down in the mirror as if that will bring some sense to him. He senses more than hears Taeil’s shitty laughter echoing through the bathroom as he comes in.

“You look _rough_ ,” he says, because that’s just the way he is. He unzips at the urinal, smirking at Minhyuk through the wall of mirrors. “Something the matter?”

Minhyuk rolls his eyes. He would be foolish to come to Taeil with his problems unless he wanted to be laughed at. “I could use a hand, actually,” he says, angling his body so that his crotch is in Taeil’s eyeline. Minhyuk doesn’t need to be subtle with him anymore, they’re way past that.

Taeil’s eyebrows rise and disappear under his bangs. “I see that. Well, good luck with it.”

As he steps away from the urinal Minhyuk steps in front of him. Taeil’s broader but Minhyuk has height and uses it to steer Taeil back into the divider between the stalls.

“If only I knew someone who was good with his hands and loved helping his friends out,” Minhyuk says, crowding into him.

Taeil’s smug grin is firmly in place, giving nothing away. “Do you? He sound like a true pal. I’d cherish him, if I were you.” He rests his forearms on Minhyuk’s shoulders, leans back into the divider like he hasn’t a care in the world. In a normal reality they’d be kissing. They’d probably be dating by now, if they met on the street. In this reality, Minhyuk’s boner is becoming insistent, and he’s all but rubbing it against Taeil’s leg.

“I’m not above begging,” Minhyuk says, and Taeil’s laugh echoes off the tiles.

“Oh, I know. You’re quite good at it, begging.”

“Do you want to hear me beg now? I know it gets you hot.” He buries his face in the crook of Taeil’s neck, tugging on his necklace, dragging his crotch against Taeil’s jeans.

“God, you’re really doing it.” Taeil should know him better by now than to be surprised that Minhyuk would hump his leg in the backstage bathroom of a concert.

“I wouldn’t if you would just get your hand on my dick,” Minhyuk says, trying to sound reasonable. Taeil smells like his cheap cologne and after associating it with some pretty good sex it just makes Minhyuk harder.

Taeil _hmm_ s, thoughtful, before he slides a hand into Minhyuk’s hair, grabbing a handful just hard enough to make Minhyuk gasp. “Nah. I’m good.”

The groan Minhyuk makes sounds pitiful even to his own ears, it sounds just as desperate as he doesn’t bother hiding that he is. “You’re really going to leave me like this, right before we go on stage? Hyung, please.”

“Yeah,” Taeil says, “pretty much.” He ducks under Minhyuk’s arm and heads towards the door, with a look over his shoulder. “Come to the dorm tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you.”

His laughter follows him back down the hallway, echoing in Minhyuk’s head as he dives into one of the stalls, splitting his fly open and shoving a hand in his underwear to bring himself off quick and dirty, careful not to make a sound.

//

 

Fifteen minutes in, Minhyuk’s sitting in Taeil’s lap on the sofa amongst the various anal beads and miscellaneous items from Taeil’s room, licking syrup off his fingers, and feeling the stretch of Taeil’s cock inside him. He hasn’t been fucked in so long he almost forgot what it feels like to be this completely filled.

“Is it good for you?” Taeil has his hands on Minhyuk’s hips, but Minhyuk is doing all the work.

“So good,” Minhyuk says, as he bounces on Taeil’s cock, punctuating it with a loud moan. Taeil likes it when he makes noise and who is Minhyuk to deny him what he wants when Taeil’s cock is such a work of art, when Taeil can give it to him so well?

Taeil’s face is a mottled shade of red and his bangs stick to his forehead, making him look cute, a contrast to the kinds of things they get up to when left to their own devices, but Minhyuk probably doesn’t look any better. Minhyuk knows him well enough now to set the pace without prompting, to squeeze when he wants Taeil to give him more, clench his hips tighter, tease his nipples. He moans as Taeil hits that spot inside him.

Taeil laughs. “You like that, don’t you?”

It’s almost more than Minhyuk can multitask, sinking down on Taeil’s cock while he stutters out a “y-yeah, fuck, I like it.” He white-knuckles the back of the sofa for leverage.

“Seems to me that you love it,” Taeil says, and his voice is so smug, so Taeil-like. “Bouncing on my dick like that. You’re so hard and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

It’s true. Their foreplay was mostly preparing Minhyuk and getting Taeil going, but Minhyuk’s willing to take whatever he can get. It doesn’t matter to him that he’s not getting off just yet if Taeil is.

“Tell me how much you love it when I fuck you like this.”

Minhyuk has to stop bouncing for a minute to collect his thoughts and Taeil takes the opportunity to kiss him, rough and dirty and open-mouthed, yanking him closer by the hold on the scruff of his neck.

“I love it when you fuck me, shit, when you use me. Fuck me so hard I can’t walk properly. I want to feel you for days.”

It’s all the motivation Taeil needs to roll Minhyuk sideways onto his back and fuck him properly, dicking into him in short sharp thrusts that Minhyuk punctuates with a moan each time. Minhyuk is under no illusions about how strong Taeil really is, so when Taeil starts to thrust harder with one foot on the floor, it’s all Minhyuk can do to lie back and enjoy it, moving up the sofa with each thrust until his head hangs over the arm.

Taeil’s back is too sweaty to properly hold on to, and Minhyuk doesn’t have the brainpower to do much more than let his legs fall open as Taeil fucks him until he’s moaning, shocked-out noises and half-formed words he knows Taeil loves to hear. He can feel his orgasm start to build in the base of his dick as the front door opens and Jaehyo and Kyung appear. Even upside down Minhyuk can read the twin looks of shock on their faces. Taeil doesn’t notice, still fucking into him, until the sound of something heavy smashing when Jaehyo drops his shopping bag snaps him back to reality.

Minhyuk freezes, but Taeil continues to thrust as if they’re not there, looking up at where Kyung and Jaehyo are motionless in the doorway, and Minhyuk tries not to come.

“You know, in some cultures it’s custom to put a sock on the door,” Jaehyo says. He seems to come to his senses and looks away, but his eyes are still bulging. “Christ, I’ll never get this out of my brain.”

“Get out before I start charging you to watch,” Taeil says and reaches for the television remote. Minhyuk takes one last look at Kyung’s face before the door closes and the remote breaks against it, falling in pieces to the floor. It was barely there, buried beneath the shock and probably a little bit of horror, but Minhyuk could swear he saw a tinge of hurt in Kyung’s expression.

He doesn’t have time to think about it before Taeil starts fucking into him again, and then he doesn’t think about anything.

//

For as long as Minhyuk’s known him, Jaehyo has had the capacity to be a vindictive asshole. Minhyuk knows better than to let it get to him, but it’s curious, the way Jaehyo cycles through expressions watching Taeil and Minhyuk. Where others see dilemna, Minhyuk sees opportunity. He touches Taeil’s hand, laughs harder at his jokes, and glances over at Jaehyo every so often to see the effect he’s having.

“You really are shameless, aren’t you?” Jaehyo says later, a slight twist to his mouth. Their two hour livestream is up and Minhyuk wants a nap. This is interesting though. He could stand to watch Jaehyo’s jealousy war with his dignity. Someone comes to take his mic pack and Jaehyo’s clams up, looking like there’s more he wants to say.

“If you want me to be,” Minhyuk says, shrugging. He helps himself to the snacks the crew lays out for them and waves a mini tiramisu pie in Jaehyo’s face just for the reaction. Jaehyo smacks his hand away, nostrils flared and brow drawn. “Come on, it’s tasty.”

“I don’t eat that shit,” Jaehyo says.

“I’m sure I could persuade you.”

“Stop changing the subject,” Jaehyo says, and it’s cute, his posturing. The way he asks, “What’s with you and Taeil?” means “Why are you fucking him and not me?” If only Minhyuk had the rest of his life to unpack Jaehyo’s issues.

Minhyuk glances around, at Jihoon flirting with the director, at Jiho and Yukwon flirting with each other, at Taeil and Kyung stretched out on the sofa. When he catches Kyung’s eye and winks, Kyung’s laughter dies and he clears his throat. Minhyuk turns back to Jaehyo, his voice low. “So we hang out sometimes, it’s no big deal. We’re adults.”

“I didn’t even know either of you were into guys.”

“If you didn’t know that, why would you know anything else?”

Jaehyo’s mouth opens and then closes shut, a cartoon parody of himself. He’s always been this way with Minhyuk, wanting Minhyuk to pay attention to him, but something stops him from admitting it. It’s become a game Minhyuk likes to indulge in, if only for the satisfaction that he’s the only one who knows they’re playing.

“Fine,” Jaehyo says. “Whatever. Keep your secrets, it’s not like anyone needs to know.”

Jaehyo’s indignancy is at best cute and at worst hilarious, and Minhyuk is torn between laughing in his face and helping him work through it. It could prove rewarding, after all.

“It’s not like it’s a secret anymore,” Minhyuk says, fighting to keep the smile off his face. “And it’s not as big a deal as you’re making it out to be. It’s blowing off steam. It’s a workout.”

Jaehyo doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t work out like that.”

“Maybe you should. I tell you, it can really be,” he lifts his arms above his head, stretching until his shirts ride up. Jaehyo glances down at the exposed strip of Minhyuk’s belly, then glances up at Minhyuk’s face and away, cheeks coloring at either staring or having been caught staring. “Relaxing.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure it is for you.”

Minhyuk pops a piece of candy into his mouth, winking, says, “You have no idea,” as he walks away, leaving Jaehyo spluttering something that probably counts as the last word to him.

//

He’s not really surprised at the knock on his door at eleven thirty that night, and is even less surprised that he opens it to find Jaehyo standing there. He’s dressed in what all straight guys who fuck around with other guys on the side in the classic no-homo kind of way wear: basketball shorts and a muscle tee, which show off how muscular his arms and legs are. The overhead light casts him in yellow, at once making his skin glow even more than usual and turning the atmosphere tenebrous, like he’s under interrogation.

Minhyuk steps aside and lets Jaehyo enter of his own volition. He makes a show of walking around the space, inspecting the art on the walls, checking out the view, like he’s never been here before. Minhyuk leans against the wall to watch him.

“So,” Jaehyo says, coming to a stop in the middle of the lounge room, which isn’t more than floor to ceiling windows, a sofa, and a tv. “I’ve never done this before.”

Minhyuk shrugs. “We’ll go slow.”

“Fuck you. I can take it.” Jaehyo stands up taller as if to prove it, but Minhyuk knows how much of his act is bluster, and loves him for it anyway. He moves towards Jaehyo, careful in case he spooks him, curls a hand into Jaehyo’s shirt, pulling him in a little bit and Jaehyo stumbles forward like he’s caught off guard, eyes widening when he lands in Minhyuk’s space.

“I don’t think you can,” Minhyuk says, not much more than a murmur to get Jaehyo’s heart rate up, to get him staring at Minhyuk’s lips. “I don’t think you can give it, either.”

Jaehyo clenches his jaw, stepping forward until they’re chest to chest, trying to use his height to intimidate. “I’m no virgin. I’ll bend you over that sofa and show you I can give it.” He surges forward to kiss Minhyuk, a hand on the back to Minhyuk’s head to keep him in place.

Minhyuk can’t help but be surprised at Jaehyo’s initiative, but he doesn’t mind. It just makes the night more interesting. It doesn’t take him long to adjust, kissing back and giving just as much, sighing into it, pressing his body into Jaehyo’s. It’s what they’re here for, after all. To test each other’s limits.

Jaehyo snakes a hand around to Minhyuk’s back and pulls him in closer until Minhyuk can feel him hard and insistent against his leg. He lets Jaehyo take the lead, lets him grab his ass with one hand to grind their cocks together, lets him prove how eager he is, how he’s just as good those other curious straight boys, he can fuck dudes, too.

He’s curious to see how far Jaehyo’s willing to take this, if it’s just an experiment to him or if this really is where their friendship’s been leading all these years. He’s pleasantly surprised when Jaehyo backs him up against the window, lifting him up by his thighs, and Minhyuk takes the hint and wraps his legs around Jaehyo’s waist.

It’s better like this. Jaehyo doesn’t hold back, turning Minhyuk on and getting him just as hard as Jaehyo is by thrusting into the curve of Minhyuk’s ass. Minhyuk doesn’t know if Jaehyo likes it loud, can’t remember much from their old days of watching porn together when he was too young to focus on anyone but himself, so he keeps quiet, save for the hitching of his breath on every particularly eager thrust. Minhyuk runs his hands over Jaehyo’s body, feeling his muscles, teasing him until he gets a reaction. Jaehyo doesn’t like to be touched that much normally, but he’s enjoying it now, Minhyuk can tell by the sounds he makes when Minhyuk pushes his shirt up and gets his hands on Jaehyo’s bare skin.

“You’re a good kisser,” Jaehyo says, as if surprised, as he kisses down Minhyuk’s jaw, sucking at his throat.

“I know how to adapt,” Minhyuk says. He can feel how hard Jaehyo is and wonders what he needs to do to get Jaehyo to do something. Riling him up always works to get a reaction out of him. The others try to kiss him all the time, just to piss him off, but Jaehyo’s already ahead of him on that, nipping at Minhyuk’s pulse point, grinding his dick into Minhyuk’s ass.

“So what were you thinking?” Minhyuk asks. He tilts his head back to give Jaehyo more access.

“Uh, we’re going to have sex, right?”

Minhyuk can’t help but laugh, which makes Jaehyo pull back with an affronted expression on his face. Even with the look he’s giving Minhyuk, he really is beautiful -- his soft features, his delicately defined brows, the turned-down moue of his lips. Minhyuk reaches out to touch the curve of his cheekbone.

“Yes, but what kind of sex? Are you doing me, or am I doing you? Do you want a handjob, a blowjob, do you want me to eat you out? Or we could just continue like this if it’s working for you.”

“I’m,” Jaehyo starts, and it takes him a minute to come up with an answer, the wheels turning behind his eyes. “Can’t we just - do each other? Christ, this is so much easier with girls.”

“You really are straight, aren’t you,” Minhyuk says, and he doesn’t mean it to be an insult but from the look on his face Jaehyo takes it as one. He hitches Minhyuk up further around his waist and spins. It’s only a few steps to the sofa and even though he doesn’t need to Minhyuk holds on, and Jaehyo’s strength shouldn’t be surprising. The guy works out a lot. He’s a machine.

As soon as Jaehyo dumps Minhyuk on the sofa he crawls over him, picking up the kissing again and not holding back. Minhyuk pushes Jaehyo’s shirt up until Jaehyo takes it off, muscles in his abs jumping when Minhyuk scrapes his fingernails down them just enough for him to feel it, but not enough to hurt. He fits his fingers into the v of Jaehyo’s hips, a part of him that Minhyuk finds irresistible. If Minhyuk had the chance to lie Jaehyo down and lick the skin of his hips and the veins there he’d take it.

When he reaches the hem of Jaehyo’s shorts he stops, asking permission with a look. Jaehyo swallows like he’s preparing himself, nods, closes his eyes when Minhyuk cups him through his shorts. Jaehyo pushes into his hand, holding himself up above Minhyuk easily as Minhyuk works his hand in, curling it around his dick.

Jaehyo shifts forward onto his elbows, leaning down to kiss Minhyuk as Minhyuk strokes him, letting out these little breathy moans when Minhyuk twists or thumbs over the head. He was already fully hard from before and he’s firm in Minhyuk’s hand, not so big that Minhyuk would be choking himself but a decent size. With his other hand Minhyuk works Jaehyo’s shorts down over his ass, smoothing down the curve of it, wanting nothing more than to grab and pinch and bite. Maybe next time, when he introduces Jaehyo to the whole new world he’s been missing.

“So, you do this a lot? Fuck guys?” He sounds slightly more than curious, and Minhyuk knows he’s still trying to wrap his head around it, see if it’s something he can picture himself doing. Minhyuk was there once.

“I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. I don’t keep it a secret.”

“Are you calling me dense?”

“Absolutely.”

Jaehyo bites his lower lip, stretching it out like he wants it to hurt, and Minhyuk drags his thumb nail over the slit in his cock in retaliation, smearing the precome gathered there. Jaehyo releases Minhyuk’s lip on a gasp.

“I’ve got an idea,” Minhyuk says, still stroking Jaehyo’s cock. “You’ll like it.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyo sounds dubious, but he’s also smiling a little. He always was the trusting kind, always eager to join in. “What do I have to do?”

“Sit up.” As soon as he does, Minhyuk doesn’t waste any time, slides onto the floor, shoulders his way between Jaehyo’s knees. Jaehyo perks up, a smile coming to his face, and oh. Minhyuk is going to keep it there. Jaehyo is effortlessly beautiful all the time, but when he smiles he’s devastating. He lifts his hips up when Minhyuk urges him so he can pull down his shorts, just enough to make it sordid, not enough to make Jaehyo self conscious. They’re just two friends, and one of those friends is going down on the other.

Jaehyo’s dick springs free, all pretty and flushed and begging to be sucked and Minhyuk doesn’t waste any time. His mouth finds Jaehyo’s cock easily and fits his lips over the head, sucking lightly, mostly to tease and see what he gets in return.

What he gets is a hand on the back of his skull urging his head down. It’s fine with him if Jaehyo wants to get to the good part straight away, wants to curl his fingers into Minhyuk’s hair and push Minhyuk down to the base of his cock, making soft, encouraging noises. It’s good for Minhyuk, but what’s good for Jaehyo is better. He takes care of himself, one hand digging into Jaehyo’s hip and the other opening his jeans to get to his dick.

He sucks Jaehyo down to the base, hollowing his cheeks, teasing the head with his tongue. Jaehyo’s breathing is loud in the silence punctuated only by the slick sounds of Minhyuk sucking him.

“I’m gonna come,” Jaehyo says, shifting in his seat. Minhyuk can tell by the whine in his voice, even though he’s never heard it from Jaehyo before. It’s a whine that a lot of guys have, something that Minhyuk’s heard a lot.

Jaehyo lets him up enough that Minhyuk can suction his mouth around the head of his cock, sucking as hard as he can until Jaehyo does come, the taste of him hitting Minhyuk’s tongue and Minhyuk gasps for breath, come spilling out of his mouth and down his chin, swallowing the rest.

“Fuuuuuck,” Jaehyo says, drawing it out. He looks pretty content with himself, resting his head back on the sofa, the light hitting the underside of his jaw, as he absently strokes Minhyuk’s cheek. It’s affection without being affectionate. It’s how they are.

Minhyuk rests his head on Jaehyo’s thigh and continues to jerk himself off with quick flicks of his wrist until Jaehyo stops him with a soft, _hey_.

“Come up here,” he says, tugging at Minhyuk’s shirt. “I want to watch you.”

Minhyuk does as he’s told, stripping his shirt off as he stands. Jaehyo’s eyes travel over his body, which isn’t as impressive as Jaehyo’s, as if on autopilot. He’s not acting like a straight guy now that he’s been introduced to the other side. Despite the way he looks, his dewy eyes and long lashes, he’s probably not as delicate as Minhyuk is treating him.

As soon as he takes a seat on the sofa Jaehyo’s arm comes around him and holds him in place. Like before, Minhyuk gets straight down to business, stroking his cock quickly, feeling Jaehyo’s eyes on him and fingertips dragging along his shoulder, the sensations of his own hand on his cock and Jaehyo touching his skin so lightly bound together. His orgasm starts to build as Jaehyo places a kiss behind his jaw, a surprisingly sweet gesture. He doesn’t help out, but Minhyuk doesn’t expect him to, not yet at least. Not on their first night.

“This wasn’t so bad, you know,” Jaehyo says, typically Jaehyo. “You look pretty sexy like this, with come all over your chin, jerking off. I could go for round two in a minute.”

When Minhyuk’s orgasm hits, it’s alongside the feeling of Jaehyo’s lips on his skin, and the thought of getting to do more.

//

Minhyuk’s leaning against a wall outside the dressing room with his eyes closed, running over the routine in his head, when a hand on his wrist pulls him out of his reverie.

“Hey,” Yukwon says, and Minhyuk doesn’t have much time to react before Yukwon slides into place behind him, pushing him up against the wall. It’s a thing he does, sometimes, occasionally, when he wants to make Minhyuk suffer. Minhyuk’s hands go straight to the wall, his cheek pressed against it. He’s practically offering himself up.

“Hey yourself,” he says, but it’s impotent, powerless. Yukwon’s hands come up to encircle Minhyuk’s wrists, keeping him in place as though he was about to move, kicking Minhyuk’s feet open farther.

“You’ve been getting yourself into trouble lately,” Yukwon says. He nips at Minhyuk’s ear, and it goes straight to Minhyuk’s dick. He’s not fucking around this time; he’s out for Minhyuk’s life. All Minhyuk can do is stutter out, _You think so?_ before Yukwon tightens his grip and pushes Minhyuk into the wall with his body. “Yeah, I do. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

Minhyuk has an answer. He’s already stretched and prepped and slick from when he fingered himself in the bathroom an hour ago, and it wouldn’t take much for Yukwon to push himself in and fuck Minhyuk right here. No one’s around. He’s about to say they could head back into their dressing room, but he’s so turned on he can’t get the words out.

“No?” Yukwon asks, and Minhyuk stutters out something that sounds like a _please_. “I guess we’ll have to wait until you can come up with something.”

And then he’s gone, the heat and weight of him, leaving Minhyuk breathing heavy as though he’s just performed. He has just enough time to catch his breath before they’re called into the dressing room and Minhyuk has to act like a normal person again.

//

He waits two weeks before anything happens. Two weeks of throwing sideways glances that Yukwon laughs off, as if he hadn’t propositioned Minhyuk himself, two weeks of casual handholding and laughing at his jokes as if that was ever going to get Yukwon to notice him. Minhyuk feels like a teenager experiencing his first crush, and he’s infuriated.

If he said he wasn’t nervous about performing again, not as Block B this time, but as the three of them, he’d be lying. Luckily the only one around to perjure him is Jihoon. Unluckily, Jihoon is giving him fuck-eyes from across the dressing room, and Minhyuk needs to calm himself.

“Come over here,” Jihoon says, patting the space beside him on the couch, and Minhyuk at this point is powerless to the sway his bandmates have over him. As he comes over Jihoon grabs his wrist and pulls Minhyuk into his lap, and at first Minhyuk thinks it’s just another one of Jihoon’s cuddly moments, until he feels his hard on, Jihoon’s hands on his hips to keep him there.

“Fuck,” Minhyuk says, because what else can he say? It’s becoming a pattern of his bandmates to render him dumb.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Jihoon says, and the depth of his voice alone is enough to turn Minhyuk on, but he doesn’t get to finish before the door opens.

Minhyuk lets out a breath when Yukwon enters, looking entirely unsurprised at the compromising position they’re in, and Jihoon continues.

“We’ve been thinking,” he corrects, “about what you’ve been up to, and we’ve prepared something.”

Yukwon’s face is smug and taunting all at once. Minhyuk breathes heavy through his mouth, realises he’s practically salivating at the prospect of whatever the two of them want to do to him. Yukwon reaches into his bag and pulls out a smaller gift bag, which is pink and has lace handles, offering it to Minhyuk with a knowing smile.

“You’ll like it,” Yukwon says, attempting to wink.

“But don’t bother opening it until tomorrow,” Jihoon says, his voice a low grumble in Minhyuk’s ear. “Tomorrow, come to the practice room. Kwonnie will meet you.”

“Okay,” Minhyuk says, and Jihoon lets him go. He stands on unsteady legs, clutching the gift bag to his chest until the assistant comes to tell them it’s time to go on. So the three of them go on.

//

He waits until he gets to the practice room to open the bag and isn’t disappointed. Like Jihoon said, Yukwon is there to meet him, pushing him into the toilets with a smile that brightens his whole face.

“Go, go,” Yukwon says, abandoning him as soon as Minhyuk is through the door. Along with the panties and stockings and garter they’ve given him, they’ve prepared a dress for him, and in typical Jihoon style, it’s pink and lacy and looks like something one of the actresses at Disneyland would wear.

Of course he puts it on. The thought of being deprived of what they’ve got planned is enough to power him through trying to figure out how to clip the stockings on, the strange sensation of the panties cradling him, and hoping that no one that he doesn’t want to catch him catches him on the walk from the bathroom to the practice room. It’s worth it when he sees Jihoon’s face, the open lust writ on it, his bitten lip and the hand he holds up to beckon Minhyuk forward. He’s sitting in a chair up against the back mirrors, knees spread, shirt untucked and unbuttoned to his chest. He always did look his best dishevelled.

“Do you like?” Minhyuk asks, picks up the hem of the dress as he walks. This time when Jihoon pulls Minhyuk into his lap, his hands come up to cradle Minhyuk’s face as they kiss, leisurely but with intent. Minhyuk bunches the dress around his thighs; the thin lace of his panties does nothing for the feeling of Jihoon’s pants rubbing against him, but it gets him hot, the tawdriness of it.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Jihoon says, in between sucking on Minhyuk’s tongue and pulling his bottom lip into his mouth.

“Do you wanna fuck me in it?”

“Only if you say please.”

Minhyuk’s _jebal_ is shocked out of him, the last syllable tapering off into mostly a noise rather than a word. “Please, let me see you.” He should feel embarrassed about begging the maknae but he’s already here, already in this dress, and so desperate to get fucked he doesn’t care. Jihoon’s face heats up but he nods and that’s all Minhyuk needs to go for his crotch, open his jeans, free his cock. He always knew Jihoon was big but seeing him, touching him, long and thick and flushed purple, a thick vein along the underside, is better than the imagined idea of him Minhyuk has jerked off to. As soon as he’s free Jihoon grabs Minhyuk’s waist and seats Minhyuk fully in his lap, grinding into him, fucking his dick into Minhyuk’s hip. Minhyuk is hard and near bursting out of his panties, groaning at the friction of Jihoon’s cock catching against his skin. It must be rough on him but he keeps going, keeps kissing Minhyuk as he does, hands in Minhyuk’s hair, and Minhyuk thinks he’s grown more before he realises Yukwon has come up behind him, has his hands on Minhyuk’s waist.

“Fuck,” Yukwon says, “you look good.” Suddenly Minhyuk feels tongue tied in front of Yukwon again. As Jihoon kisses down Minhyuk’s neck, Yukwon’s hands lift up the hem of the dress, caressing Minhyuk’s thighs as he goes, playing along the material, skirting around his cheeks, and Minhyuk feels his face start to heat up. There’s something about Yukwon that turns Minhyuk into a mess, and he hasn’t figured out what it is.

Jihoon returns to his mouth, his hands traveling south, pulls at the sleeves of the dress that hang past his shoulders, cups where the material bunches around his chest. Minhyuk’s nipples grow hard even through the material, and he feels the urge to push his chest into Jihoon’s hands war with the need to grind down into Jihoon’s lap. He grabs at Yukwon’s arm with one hand and the back of Jihoon’s neck with the other, trying to bring them both in until Jihoon pulls back, tutting.

“Don’t be so greedy,” he says, a look on his face that Minhyuk’s never seen before, one that is a far cry from the persona he puts on for the camera. Jihoon glances over Minhyuk’s shoulder and then nods towards the middle of the room where there are exercise mats set up. Yukwon lifts Minhyuk out of Jihoon’s lap as Jihoon stands and leads him over there, and Minhyuk doesn’t want to do anything but follow. Jihoon leans down to kiss him, and he’s not used to it, being dominated by Jihoon’s height, after only one time with Jaehyo and a handful of times with Jiho, and it sends a curl of heat through him. “How do you want it,” Jihoon asks, voice low in Minhyuk’s ear, “do you want Kwon-ah to fuck you? Or do you want me?”

Minhyuk’s mouth goes dry at the suggestion. “You,” he says, barely aware of what he’s saying but knowing it’s the right choice. Almost as soon as he says it, Jihoon spins him around to face Yukwon, who looks prepared and willing to debauch Minhyuk the way they want to, kissing Minhyuk greedily before pulling Minhyuk down to the floor as he himself kneels. Minhyuk doesn’t know what to do until he feels Jihoon’s hands slide under his dress, touching every place of him they can find while Yukwon keeps pulling him until he’s on all fours.

He all but gasps when he feels Jihoon’s fingers pressing into his ass through the panties. Yukwon runs his hands through Minhyuk’s hair as if petting him, soothing him, not that Minhyuk needs to be soothed. Prepped, definitely, but he’s ready and willing.

“Jihoonie’s going to fuck you,” Yukwon says in that low drawl of his, “while you suck me off. Do you want that?”

“I want it,” Minhyuk says, desperate but shameless. Yukwon’s answering smile makes Minhyuk’s heart beat faster, his stomach twisted into knots, his hands slightly shaking. As Jihoon lifts Minhyuk’s skirt up to expose him, Yukwon splits his fly open and reaches in to pull out his cock, and Minhyuk’s mouth starts watering at the sight. Yukwon looks at Jihoon and smirks. Whatever message they relay is lost on Minhyuk, whose head is filled with only the thought of getting Yukwon’s cock in his mouth. Thankfully Yukwon pushes his hips forward enough that he can, suckling the head, pushing back Yukwon’s foreskin with his lips to tongue his slit before swallowing him down. He’s not as big as Jihoon, but he’s a decent size, a heady taste and solid weight in Minhyuk’s mouth, and Minhyuk sucks him down to the base just to hear his breathy moan. Yukwon pets his hair, hands running down his shoulders and his back under the dress, touches that serve to turn Minhyuk on more and make him feel pampered.

He’s almost too caught up in Yukwon to remember Jihoon until he feels lube-slicked fingers slide under his panties to play with his hole, just circling without pushing in. It’s too much of a tease but Minhyuk tries to remain satisfied with what he has, knowing that there will be so much more. When Jihoon finally does push in, Minhyuk sighs. His fingers are long and beautiful, something Minhyuk’s dreamed of getting inside him, and they find his prostate easily as if this isn’t their first time but something they’ve practiced, getting down to his knuckles, pulling out just to push back in again. He hasn’t bothered to pull down Minhyuk’s panties, he’s just pushed them aside, and it makes this whole situation even hotter, Jihoon frigging him ruthlessly while he nurses sloppily on Yukwon’s cock.

Minhyuk pulls back, letting Yukwon’s cock slip out of his mouth to say, “Please,” again, his voice nothing more than a whine, “I’m ready, you can fuck me.”

“If you say so,” Jihoon says. He retracts his fingers and Minhyuk immediately misses them, his body thrumming in the anticipation, taking Yukwon’s cock again when he offers it with a hand gently stroking Minhyuk’s face, swallowing Yukwon’s precome, sucking more out of him. He feels Jihoon line up before he pushes in, the first breach just shy of painful from how thick he is, and Minhyuk breathes through it. He can’t push back without losing Yukwon’s cock so he waits for Jihoon to come to him, sets his knees further apart, arches his back, takes Jihoon in until he bottoms out in one excruciating slide.

“Fuck,” Jihoon says, as Minhyuk moans around Yukwon’s cock. “You’re right, Kwonnie, he is tight. Fits perfect. But he knows how to take it.”

“A cock like yours, that’s no easy task.” Yukwon strokes Minhyuk’s face, slipping a finger into his mouth as well. “You’re a good boy, Minhyuk. You’re taking us so well.”

Minhyuk feels his face heat up and a rush of affection at the praise, and sucks Yukwon harder. Jihoon starts to thrust into him and consequently all thoughts vacate Minhyuk’s mind. The thickness of Jihoon’s cock stretches him to the point of feeling like he’s being split in two, but it’s a good feeling, a good burn, and, like his fingers, it doesn’t take much for Jihoon’s cock to find his prostate, he’s that long. Jihoon’s thrusts push him onto Yukwon’s cock and he feels like he’s on a see-saw, or he is a see-saw, being pushed and pulled in opposite directions, a maddening exercise. It’s not easy to take the both of them at once but it’s worth it.

His cock hangs heavy and hard between his legs, trapped by his panties, neglected, but the way Jihoon fucks him, so deep and so good, pushes all other thoughts from his mind. His blowjob turns sloppy and uncoordinated, but Yukwon doesn’t seem to mind, his eyes crinkling in a laugh at the way Minhyuk moans and his body sags. He feels like he’s coming apart at the seams, like they’re undoing him and he’ll collapse into smoke.

“Baby, you’re doing so good,” Yukwon says, and the words make Minhyuk feel like his heart grows a size. “You’re so good for us, you should see yourself. I’m going to come though so you should hold still.” He pulls his cock out of Minhyuk’s mouth and Minhyuk is sad for it to go. “Is it alright if I come on your face?”

“Please,” Minhyuk begs, “I wa-uh-ant you to.”

Yukwon smirks again in the devastating way he has, the way that never fails to make Minhyuk’s insides melt, as he starts to stroke himself, his dick so close to Minhyuk’s face that he can preserve the memory of it for later, the way his foreskin pulls back on each stroke, the colour of him, flushed red at the tip, the way he smells. The first spurt of come hits Minhyuk’s nose and drips down his face, into his mouth, and he laps at it, swallows it, until Yukwon holds his chin still.

“Smile,” Yukwon says, and when he does Yukwon rubs his own come into where Minhyuk’s cheek dimples. Minhyuk closes his eyes against the sensation, moaning at that, or at the way Jihoon’s fucking him, or maybe both.

“I’m going to come,” Minhyuk says, letting his head loll between his arms, letting Jihoon fuck him until he forgets his own name. He collapses onto his elbows with his ass in the air, feeling worn out after only fifteen minutes.

“Not yet,” Yukwon says, “not until Jihoon does.”

Minhyuk groans again, from pleasure or desperation he’s not sure, as Jihoon fucks him so deep his eyes roll back in his head. He’s going to have bruises on his hips tomorrow from where Jihoon is holding him so tight, pulling Minhyuk back onto his cock. Minhyuk squeezes around him and Jihoon loses his rhythm, leaning onto Minhyuk’s back.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Jihoon says. “But if you do that again I’m going to come too soon.”

“Just come already,” Yukwon says. He sits back on his heels, clothes in disarray, putting his cock back in his pants. “He’s earned it. Haven’t you?” He picks at the drying crust of come on Minhyuk’s face that leads from his nose to the base of his neck. Minhyuk can’t help but suck Yukwon’s fingers into his mouth, and it makes Yukwon laugh. “You’ve been _very good_ today, Minhyuk. Next time I might film it and show it to Sunhye. I’m sure she’d agree.”

“She can join in,” Minhyuk says, enjoying making words in the brief respite between being fucked stupid as Jihoon gets his rhythm back, hips pistoning. “She might -- unh -- enjoy that m-more.”

It’s hard to focus on anything but how badly he needs to come, and it conflicts with his need to be good for them, to show them he can restrain himself, that he can be as good a boy as Yukwon says he is. Jihoon’s hands keep him anchored, holding him together to keep him from falling apart at the size and weight of him as he rams home one last time, spilling into him, making a punched-out noise as his come fills Minhyuk up and spills down his thighs when Jihoon pulls out. Minhyuk has to breathe steadily to keep from coming with him, realises his hands are bunched in the mat and he’s white-knuckling it, his legs shaking as he continues to support his own weight and the added weight of Jihoon leaning over him, Jihoon running his hands up his thighs and into his come-slick hole, Jihoon mouthing at the back of his neck.

Yukwon leans forward, mouth at Minhyuk’s ear. “You can come now.” Even without a hand on him Minhyuk does, to the motion of Jihoon fingering him again, coming all over himself and ruining his panties. After Jihoon pulls his fingers out and pulls the panties back into place, patting Minhyuk’s ass for good measure, Minhyuk collapses onto his stomach, basking in the afterglow and Yukwon’s hands on him, stroking his face and back and crooning about how well he did.

//

The message comes half way through his work out, and usually he wouldn’t answer during but he’s hoping someone is up for round two. It’s been two weeks, but the last good fucking he had has worn off and he has needs. Thankfully his trainer is sick for the day and he can check his phone without being scolded.

It’s a selca of Jiho’s face with his lower lip pouted and his eyebrows drawn. The caption reads, _Heard you been giving it out to everyone_. Jiho’s tongue out, tail-wagging eagerness to get fucked every which way by anyone he can and his subsequent jealousy when other people are instead of him is one of the more endearing and endlessly entertaining things about him.

 _Not everyone_ , Minhyuk replies. _Kyung’s been missing out like you._.

The message comes back within a few seconds, which must mean Jiho’s using both hands to type, something he only does when he’s invested.

_Shame for him then._

_A real shame. But what are you going to do._

Minhyuk takes a seat on the workout bench, figures it’ll be a while before Jiho gets to the point. He’s surprised when the next message reads, _Let’s pick up where we left off_.

 _What do you have in mind?_ Even the thought of it, Jiho’s teasing, makes Minhyuk’s skin prickle with want.

_My place. Come over Wednesday. My treat._

Minhyuk doesn’t bother replying. By now they’ve built up their report to the point he doesn’t need to. He’ll come.

//

Something changes after the V App. Minhyuk was different, even he could tell, pushed a little too far by whatever’s come over him in the last few weeks, and Jiho must have noticed it too. He opens the door in a robe and sleep clothes, his hair a mess and his hands coated in flour, but his expression changes from one of slight bewilderment to one of open hunger when Minhyuk pushes his way into the house without any preamble.

“You’re early,” Jiho says, not sounding like he minds. Minhyuk puts his bottles of wine on the kitchen counter between the plates of food. In typically Jiho style, he’s gone all out, and the food is arranged in delicate patterns on expensive plates.

“I know, I was impatient.” Minhyuk picks a corner off a piece of sweet honey sponge cake, mouth practically watering at the texture. “You’ve been busy.”

Jiho bites his lip, keeping eye contact as Minhyuk brings the sponge cake to his mouth. He swallows visibly as Minhyuk places it on his tongue, licking his fingers before he closes his mouth. Minhyuk closes his eyes against the taste, licking his lips for good measure. When he looks again Jiho’s leaning against the door, eyes lidded. “The hotteok are almost done,” Jiho says, voice low. “You’re going to enjoy this.” He quirks an eyebrow as if daring Minhyuk to disagree.

Oh, how Minhyuk wants to see him put in his place.

He walks to the stove top and Minhyuk follows, comes up behind him and loops his arms around Jiho’s waist, pulling him in, a hand cupping the outline of Jiho’s cock. “Yeah? Are you going to make it worth my while?” It always starts this way with them, a push and pull of their intentions, trying to draw it out as long as they can. Jiho leans back into him, his ass fit snug against Minhyuk’s crotch, not pushing back just yet.

“Pass me a plate.”

Minhyuk lets go to obey, watches as Jiho loads up one of his fancy serving dishes with a stack of hotteok that’s fresh and begging to be indulged in. That’s what the two of them do when they get together, they indulge.

“Well,” Jiho says, once he finds room on the bench among all the other plates. “I think I’ve done a good job, don’t you?”

All Jiho wants in life is to be told he’s a good boy. Minhyuk will see how the night goes first. He bites into one of the still-warm chapssal donuts; the red bean paste filling is a burst of flavour on his tongue that makes him sigh. Minhyuk lifts the second half towards Jiho, who ducks to take it into his mouth, sucking on Minhyuk’s finger and thumb, his eyes closed and his expression blissed out.

“Damn, that’s good,” Jiho says around his mouthful.

“I was just going to say the same. Try something else.” Minhyuk breaks off a bit of chapssalddeok and holds it out for him, which he eats with as much enthusiasm as the donut. It’s getting to him, he can’t deny it, just watching Jiho’s physical reactions to food, the way his knees buckle slightly and he licks the last of the taste off his lips. If he’s not hard yet he soon will be; it never takes long. Jiho gathers up a handful of jellies and holds them up in his palm for Minhyuk to eat, and Minhyuk does, swallowing them all until he’s licking Jiho’s palm, licking the web of skin between his fingers, getting it wet.

Minhyuk reaches for the plate of green tea chiffon cake, which is decorated with peach slices and whipped cream. He dips a peach slice into the cream, stepping forward until he’s right in Jiho’s space, lifting it to his lips. Jiho keeps eye contact this time as he bites into it. Juice catches on his lower lips and spills down his chin, threatens to fall before Minhyuk laps at it. He can hear Jiho breathing heavy as he pulls back, chasing the taste off his tongue.

Jiho has a spot of cream on his bottom lip that Minhyuk can’t help but wipe his thumb across, smearing it more than anything. Jiho’s tongue follows the movement, lapping up what Minhyuk doesn’t get, and this gives him more incentive to dip his finger into the cream and swipe it across Jiho’s lip. It’s obscene, the way Jiho sticks his lip out to emphasise it, the way he laths his tongue over there to lick up every last drop.

“I have something for you,” Jiho says, voice barely more than a moan, “let me get it.”

He practically bounds to the fridge, which must be difficult with a boner, and brings out a dish of injeolmi bingsu, the most decadent-looking thing Minhyuk’s ever seen. It already has a spoon in it; Jiho is nothing if not prepared when the promise of good things is on the line.

Jiho’s so turned on his hands are shaking slightly when he brings the spoon, laden with toppings, up to Minhyuk’s mouth. It tastes amazing, but Minhyuk wants more. He dips two fingers into the milk sorbet and brings them up to Jiho’s mouth, Jiho’s eyes widening as he sucks on them, tongue lathing over Minhyuk’s fingertips. His lips making a popping sound when Minhyuk withdraws to slather his fingers up again.

This time he drags his fingertips down Jiho’s chin, getting him sticky, making his skin taste even better when Minhyuk licks it up. He goes back for the cream, smearing it over Jiho’s lips and chin for them both to taste. When their tongues meet Jiho sucks Minhyuk’s into his mouth and turns it into an open-mouthed kiss that has Jiho backing Minhyuk into the bench, hands on his hips, grinding through their clothes.

“Bedroom,” Jiho says, in a way that isn’t quite demanding but makes clear he might throw a tantrum if Minhyuk says no. Minhyuk follows him obediently, forgetting, in the anticipation of fucking Jiho so good he cries, that he’s the hyung. He’s so used to following Jiho’s orders when it comes to Block B, he just does it every other time, too. But if their last V App has proved anything, it’s that Jiho doesn’t mind being pushed around. Minhyuk snags a plate of fruit and chocolate sauce as they go.

Jiho’s bedroom is lavish enough to reflect his lifestyle. Once they’re in Minhyuk sets the plate down on the bed and they strip each other slowly, like a ritual, their hands wandering to every part of each other’s bodies they can reach. Their movements are practiced, sure, lazy, hitting each other’s sensitive spots with ease. Minhyuk spits into his hand and wraps it around Jiho’s cock as Jiho dips his head to suck on Minhyuk’s nipples. Minhyuk wants to do the same, wants every part of Jiho he can reach in his mouth; he’s crawling out of his skin with want.

Finally, Jiho seems to get the message and growls, “Bed,” in his leader voice, steers Minhyuk down, positions him on one side of the bed and turns his body until Minhyuk can get Jiho’s cock in his mouth while he does the same for Minhyuk. His cock is so pretty, just like Jiho; Minhyuk’s glad he doesn’t have to beg to get it in his mouth but he’s not above doing it.

It’s always an experiencing, sucking Jiho off while getting sucked off himself. The simple pleasure of indulging in his need to have something in his mouth -- food, fingers, cock -- which he suspects has a lot to do with Jiho’s oral fixation, and the suction of Jiho’s mouth, wet and warm, around his own cock is better than giving or getting a blowjob by itself.

Jiho showed him how to do this. The truth was it never even entered Minhyuk’s mind until Jiho brought it up, ever so casually, in the M!Countdown waiting room before one of their performances, as if that wasn’t going to get Minhyuk’s blood pumping straight to his dick. He said it in French, _soixante-neuf_ , but described it in detail, what he would do that night in Minhyuk’s bed, how he would get him off, the sensation of someone coming in your mouth as you came in theirs. It was made all that much better on the high from their “Toy” win, but the times they’ve done it since then have been no less intense.

Jiho doesn’t let Minhyuk finish, pulling out of his mouth and rearranging them again. This time, Minhyuk’s on his stomach, Jiho’s hands pulling his ass up until it’s in the air, hands spreading his cheeks as Jiho works his tongue in.

Overwhelmed, Minhyuk buries his face in his arms, bites his forearm to keep from crying out. When Jiho stops, Minhyuk feels like he can breathe again, but the pause is only long enough for Jiho to say, “I could eat you out all day, fuck,” before he does it again.

“If you keep going, I’m gonna come,” Minhyuk says, his thoughts a rough jumble, his voice barely working. The sound of Jiho licking and sucking at him just adds to the intensity of it; he’s nothing but a perfectionist in all aspects of his life, but in this aspect it translates to sloppy and eager and _good_.

Jiho’s tongue breaches Minhyuk’s tight ring of muscle and he cries out, too overwhelmed to stop himself. “Okay, okay, okay,” he says, and Jiho gets the message, pulls his mouth away only to roll Minhyuk onto his stomach. Jiho looks beautiful like this, hair wild, mouth reddened, a slight sheen of sweat over his body. Minhyuk wants to lick him clean.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” Jiho says, always so eager and blunt when it comes to sex. “Will you? And then I’ll fuck you. I’ll make it so good for you, hyung, I promise.”

He doesn’t have to ask. The words are barely out of his mouth before Minhyuk pushes Jiho’s head down, and Jiho’s so eager for it, jaw hanging open and practically drooling enough that his mouth is so wet when he suctions it around Minhyuk’s cock. Jiho’s so sloppy it takes a while to get a rhythm going, with Minhyuk’s hands fisted in Jiho’s hair, using his feet against the mattress to lift his hips off the bed to do as Jiho asked and fuck his mouth. He moans around Minhyuk’s cock so loud that if this were one of the hotel rooms they stayed in the other night, the others would hear them. The thought turns Minhyuk on even more, his hips stuttering as his orgasm draws closer. Jiho seems to pick up on it, bobbing his head faster, sinking down lower until Minhyuk’s cock hits the back of his throat and tears spring to his eyes. He looks even more incredible like this, like this is what he was made for, choking himself on dick.

Minhyuk keeps thrusting into his mouth, as rough as he can be, until his orgasm hits him and he nuts into Jiho’s mouth. Jiho pulls back enough that Minhyuk comes in spurts all over his lips, nose, chin, open mouth; his eyes and face are red, his hand jacking Minhyuk through his orgasm. As soon as Minhyuk closes his eyes against the aftershocks Jiho whines, crawling up his body and making a point to emphasise how hard he is by rubbing his dick against Minhyuk’s thigh.

“Look at me,” he moans, like a petulant child, more in common with Jaehyo than they’d ever admit. Minhyuk does, almost laughing at how ridiculous Jiho looks covered in come. He lifts up the corner of the sheet and wipes Jiho’s face clean and what he doesn’t get with the sheet he licks off.

“You were so good,” Minhyuk says, “such a good boy. Made me come so hard, fuck. Your mouth is heaven. I could stay in there for a week.”

Jiho blushes from the praise, ducking his head as his ears redden so that his hair falls over his face. “It’s because you taste so good. Fuck, you feel so good. How fast can you get hard again?” He moves back down Minhyuk’s body, kissing his skin as he goes, until he reaches Minhyuk’s nipples and sucks one into his mouth.

“Give me a minute,” Minhyuk says.

“I wanna fuck you and suck you off at the same time. How good would that be?”

“I did that with Jihoon and Yukwon actually,” Minhyuk admits, huffing laughter at the sound Jiho makes around his nipple.

“You sucked Jihoon off while Yukwon fucked you? Wait, Jihoon fucked you, obviously. He’s got such a big dick you’d have been begging him for it, right?” Jiho is practically salivating. How he has any saliva left after that truly impressive blowjob is a mystery.

“You know me so well. He’s got a big dick for sure, and he knows how to use it.” Minhyuk searches through the empty soju bottles on Jiho’s bedside table for something to drink and finds a half-full glass of water that he pushes into Jiho’s hands. “He would fuck you so deep, you’d be walking side to side for days. I was. Every time I moved I could feel the memory of how good he fucked me.”

Jiho moans around the glass as he finishes it. He pushes back into Minhyuk’s space, nudging his mouth open to suck on his tongue, practically humping Minhyuk’s leg. “I wanna fuck you. I bet I can do it better than Jihoon. He doesn’t have the finesse.”

“Oh? You know from experience?”

Jiho ducks his head again. “No. But I know how to make it good for you. Will you let me fuck you?”

Something in Jiho’s tone makes Minhyuk’s heart hurt. He just wants to be the best, and Minhyuk finds it hard to deny him the opportunity. Within minutes he’s got Minhyuk’s leg over his shoulder and he’s three of his long fingers deep, biting the inside of Minhyuk’s thigh every time Minhyuk makes a noise.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Jiho says, the third time Minhyuk’s gaze wanders to the ceiling, breathing through the pleasure of being stretched. Jiho’s practically milking Minhyuk’s prostate with his fingers.

“You know, you could fuck me a lot better if you actually fucked me.” He watches the minute changes in Jiho’s expression -- the dilation of his pupils, the flare of his nostrils, the jut of his lower lip -- that show how turned on he is. Jiho’s eyes narrow and he takes it as the challenge it is, slicking himself, lining up, pushing in easily with how relaxed Minhyuk is.

Minhyuk moans, he can’t help himself, as Jiho gets seated, pushing in until Minhyuk is full of him. He starts thrusting, not slowly like he usually does, just taking, and Minhyuk is struck by an idea.

“I bet Kyung would go slow at first, you know,” he says, and the effect is immediate. Jiho’s eyes gloss over before they grow sad, his hips faltering. “Maybe he’s not the biggest, but he’d make it worth your while. Have you seen the drawer in his dorm room?” Their fucking causes the plate of fruit to spill onto the bed, the chocolate sauce turned into cascade that reaches Minhyuk’s side and ruins the sheets. He slathers up his fingers and wipes them across Jiho’s nose.

Jiho picks up the pace, leaning into Minhyuk’s personal space until he can bite his bottom lip, effectively silencing him. “I can fuck you better than he could. I know you better than he does.”

“But you know him better than you know me. I bet he’d be so good for you.”

Jiho closes his eyes, thrusting a few more times until he comes, moaning into Minhyuk’s skin, and Minhyuk watches him, takes in how wrecked he is, covered in chocolate and fruit syrup. Minhyuk follows soon after watching Jiho’s expressions, staring into his eyes, striping his cock to come all over his stomach.

He cleans up efficiently with the tissues on Jiho’s bedside table, wincing as Jiho pulls out and rolls to the side. Jiho picks up the abandoned plate of fruit, offering a chocolate-dipped strawberry to Minhyuk, who shakes his head. He dresses in the silence as Jiho works his way through the fruit, aware of Jiho’s eyes on him, the bite marks on his thighs, the ache in his muscles to come.

“I’ll see you,” Minhyuk says, laying thick his trademark smirk, and disappears out the door with a wave.

//

He barely gets his bedroom door open before Kyung is shouldering through, all five feet seven inches of him, marching into Minhyuk’s bedroom with a duffel bag over his shoulder and the kind of air of anger he gets during his and Jiho’s screaming matches. Minhyuk’s not entirely pleased to have it directed at him. He tries to stand his ground only to be tipped onto the bed by Kyung’s foot around his calf and hand on his shoulder.

“Woah,” he says, leveraging himself up on his elbows. His hair is wet from the shower and he’s wearing a sweatshirt. Just a sweatshirt. If he’d known Kyung was going to burst into his home uninvited he might have put on some underwear, but he can’t say that he’s entirely upset about Kyung walking in on him like this, because maybe Kyung will _get it_ , maybe he’ll finally understand what Minhyuk’s been doing all this time. He hasn’t even noticed, has his arms crossed and is staring at a point above Minhyuk’s head while he revs himself up for a tirade.

“I know what you’ve been up to,” Kyung says. He plants his feet firmly on the ground. Minhyuk pulls his sweatshirt down to hide his dick. “And I know you know I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to get to me, and it’s cute, sure, it’s flattering to have someone put so much effort into trying to make you jealous,” and Minhyuk feels the instinctive reaction at having been read so easily to deny it, but he lets Kyung continue, “but it didn’t make me jealous. It’s not working. I’m sure you had a great time fucking absolutely everyone you know, and that’s great! I’m happy for you. You should be having fun, but don’t drag me into it. You didn’t even take into account how I feel,” and he falters at this, when he finally glances down to find Minhyuk pantless and practically spread out on the bed, not having moved from the position Kyung tipped him into. It’s impossible to cover all of himself with a sweatshirt he’s actually wearing, but apart from faltering for a split second Kyung doesn’t show any signs of weakness, and continues. “It makes me feel like this was all some sort of plot to get back at me, when I -- it’s not really fair on me, Minhyuk. If you’re having a good time, you’re an adult, I can’t stop you, but did you really think about the reasons you were doing all this? About the impact it would have on the band?” He stares Minhyuk down, his stance and gaze challenging.

After a minute, Minhyuk replies, his words carefully chosen. “Why are you here?”

There’s no blush on Kyung’s cheeks, no waver in his tone when he says, “To give you what you want.” He lifts his sweater above his head, tosses it aside, glares again. “This is what you want, right?” He lifts his shirt off and tosses that too. He goes for his fly and Minhyuk’s up, grabbing his hands to stop him.

“Stop. Kyung, stop.”

“What? You don’t want me?”

Minhyuk balks at his bluntness. “Do _you_ want _me_?” He has to ask, even if he’s afraid of the answer, afraid that maybe Kyung will say no and Minhyuk will have to live the rest of his life with that knowledge, fucking everyone else as a substitute for what he really wants. It’s more than just wanting to fuck him: Minhyuk has feelings for Kyung, and he’s been doing a good job of hiding it until now, of not letting it affect their friendship or their band dynamic, but maybe he’s fucked up by sleeping around, and this is retribution.

Kyung scoffs like the answer is obvious, like it’s not even worth his time answering it. “Of course. Are you serious?”

“You weren’t acting like it,” Minhyuk says, and is proud of himself that it doesn’t come out self-pitying but matter of fact.

“I,” Kyung says, and falters again. It’s not like Minhyuk to make him hesitant, usually no one can. Kyung is so much of himself all the time, and that’s what Minhyuk loves about him. It makes him uncomfortable that Kyung is uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to become distant.”

“Then why’d you pull away?”

Kyung glances away before he meets Minhyuk’s gaze again, looking as vulnerable as Minhyuk’s ever seen him, and it makes him want to cuddle Kyung or something, protect him from himself. “Because I have feelings for you.”

“Oh,” Minhyuk says, unsure what to do with this information. Now he wants to protect Kyung from him. He pulls his sweatshirt down again where it’s ridden up.

“I don’t think it should come as that much of a surprise,” Kyung says.

“No, it’s just.” It’s unclear where they are, where they go from here, whether Kyung is going to pull his hands away or hold Minhyuk’s back. “I hoped. I didn’t presume.”

“Well, now you know.” Kyung glances down at their hands.

“So. What now?”

“Well, I feel kind of foolish now, but I brought some things.” He motions towards his duffel bag with a sheepish smile and Minhyuk’s interest is piqued. If it’s what he thinks it is, Kyung’s about to make all his dreams come true.

“Can I see?”

Kyung bites his lip, staying where he is for a few seconds as if unsure of whether he should move. He lifts the duffel, which is almost as big as he is, onto the bed. The sound of the zipper is loud in the tense silence as Minhyuk holds his breath and as soon as it’s open, his heart rate picks up and he whistles. “Is this all for me?”

Kyung pulls out a dildo that’s the length of Minhyuk’s arm. “Depends on how much fun you want to have.”

Minhyuk surges forward and kisses him, surprising the both of them, but when Kyung kisses back the thrashing animal in Minhyuk’s chest is subdued. The kiss is soft, and sweet, and sincere, and everything good about Kyung wrapped up in the press of his lips to Minhyuk’s, the curl of his tongue, the labouring of his breath. He presses into Minhyuk’s body on an exhale, sliding his hands under Minhyuk’s sweatshirt as an invitation for him to take it off, pushing it up into his armpits until Minhyuk takes over.

He’s never been self conscious of his body but the way Kyung’s eyes rake over him makes his face heat up. The raw desire in Kyung’s eyes makes his dick hard. He waits for Kyung to make a move and he does, pulls Minhyuk in for another kiss before he pushes him back on the bed with both hands, and for the split second Minhyuk falls watching Kyung watch him his gut twists and his breath catches in his throat and he lets himself go.

“You’re going to do something for me,” Kyung says, and Minhyuk is agreeing before he even knows what it is, eyeing the things Kyung starts pulling out things from his bag and arranging on the bed. “You’re going to tell me what you want me to do with you.”

“I,” Minhyuk says, suddenly at a loss for words. He’s perfected the art of getting people to do what they want to him, knows how to bring out the best of them, since, like Jiho, he just wants it any way he can get it. But he’s more comfortable with what other people want. It’s been a long time since anyone asked him, and the words are hard to say. “I just want what you want. I know you’ll make it good for me.”

“No,” Kyung says, stern. “What do _you_ want? If you don’t tell me, I’ll just use one of these to persuade it out of you.” He motions to the array of toys with a flourish.

“That,” Minhyuk says, pointing, “I want that,” and Kyung smirks like he knew it all along.

“I think after all you’ve been doing you deserve to be punished.” Kyung cracks the flogger across his own palm. “What’s your safety word?”

Minhyuk’s almost too turned on to get the word out, but when he manages Kyung licks his lips, says, “Turn over,” with a look in his eye that Minhyuk wants directed at him every day for the rest of his life. “Ready?” Kyung asks. “I’m going to go soft but you have to tell me what you like, okay?” As the anticipation builds, Minhyuk bites the inside of his forearm, manages a choked-out _yes_ and Kyung brings the flogger down. The first touch is light but it makes Minhyuk gasp, moans, “Harder,” and Kyung does it again, striking to the left of his spine. He keeps going at Minhyuk’s insistence, coaxing from him noises that spur Kyung on more. He never keeps to one place for too long, varying position and intensity enough to keep Minhyuk alert and turned on, moaning and sweating into the sheets. If only they’d gotten their act together earlier, they could have been doing this the whole time.

Kyung pauses long enough for Minhyuk to catch his breath. “Have you had enough? I’ve got other things planned for you.”

“Yeah,” Minhyuk says, waiting for Kyung to tell him what to do. Before he does he smoothes his hands over the curve of Minhyuk’s ass, lifts one just to bring it down again, the slap harsh in the muted silence. If Minhyuk had been on his knees they would have buckled, not from the force, which was light, but from the feeling. Of course Kyung knows how much he loves being spanked. He’s always felt Kyung knows him better than anyone.

He waits for another slap but what he gets is Kyung’s teeth biting into his skin, hard enough to leave a mark, and that’s even better.

“Sit up at against the wall,” Kyung says, when Minhyuk collects himself. He goes through the duffel again as Minhyuk does what he’s told, pulls out two strips of cloth that he winds around his hands, shuffles his way across the bed on his knees until he straddles Minhyuk. Kyung doesn’t do anything for a minute, just staring at Minhyuk’s face and letting the tension build, the denim of his jeans abrasive against Minhyuk’s skin, his muscles tensed in anticipation. Kyung reaches out slowly to grab one of Minhyuk’s hands and tie a strip of cloth around it, then does the same for the other one. Once Minhyuk realises what Kyung’s doing he holds his arms out for Kyung to tie the ends of the cloth to the bedposts without complaint, too turned on to do much more than that, relishing how tight Kyung has tied them, how little room he has to move.

“Which do you want first?” Kyung says, motioning to the toys.

“Any,” Minhyuk says, “All of them, I don’t care.”

Kyung kisses him once before he grabs the anal beads and lube and crawls down between Minhyuk’s legs, pushing his knees apart and up to his chest.

“Do you want my fingers?” Kyung asks. Maybe he’s laying it on thick, but maybe that’s the way he is, always needing to ask to know instead of figuring it out through trial and error like Minhyuk does. Minhyuk shakes his head. He watches the ritual of Kyung squirting lube onto his fingers and slicking up the beads, anticipation and tension growing with each second that passes, his gut tightening even as the rest of his body relaxes for the breach as Kyung pushes the beads in. “How does that feel?”

Minhyuk has been desensitised and it doesn’t feel like anything. “A different one,” he says, and Kyung nods as he pulls the beads out. He grabs the smallest vibrator, which is in the shape of an arrowhead with a ring on the base. It’s small enough that Minhyuk could carry it around in his pocket, thinks that’s not a bad idea for getting off quickly when they’re travelling between cities and hotel rooms, before Kyung snaps his attention back.

“Let’s see if this one works for you. You have to tell me, okay?”

Minhyuk nods, a little frantic. Kyung squirts more lube onto his fingers and rubs it onto the toy, pushes Minhyuk’s knees up to his chest again, presses the toy in in one slide. The stretch is good, but not enough; he gets used to it before Kyung even turns it on.

“How’s that?” He’s watching Minhyuk’s face carefully, eyes flitting over him as if cataloguing his every expression, nothing if not observant.

“Not big enough,” Minhyuk says, and Kyung nods again, diligently cataloguing all of Minhyuk’s responses. He pulls the toy out and picks out a different one, an impressive-looking prostate massager, and Minhyuk both can and cannot believe that not only does Kyung own all these things but he also brought them over for Minhyuk to enjoy. “You came prepared.”

“We’re going to find the one that’s just right, Goldilocks,” Kyung says. This one is a stretch and when pushed all the way in fits snug against Minhyuk’s perineum and reaches his prostate. He’s on edge just waiting for Kyung to turn it on, but Kyung doesn’t, just watches him for a minute, his eyes big and kind and alert to the minute changes in Minhyuk’s expression.

“Please,” Minhyuk says, never averse to begging.

“Please what,” Kyung says, “what do you want me to do?”

Minhyuk breathes through his mouth. He can tell he already looks a mess like this, stretched open and tied up, breathing heavy, dick hard. The words are hard to say, he has to force the words out. If he opens up he might never get himself closed. “I want you to fuck me with that toy,” he says in a rush, “turn it on so I can feel it.”

Kyung smiles then, an open-mouthed grin, looking up at Minhyuk from between his legs, like he’s proud of Minhyuk, like this is what he wanted all along. He turns the vibrator on and Minhyuk feels it immediately, the spike of pleasure that thrums through the whole of him, that turns his body into an instrument for Kyung to play.

He feels split open to Kyung’s gaze, bare, as though Kyung can see right through him. Against him, Minhyuk is defenceless. He cycles through the settings at Minhyuk’s urging until they find one that Minhyuk likes, that reduces him to a mess of moans and gasps. Kyung lets go and straddles Minhyuk again, kissing him sweetly.

“Do you want me to suck you?”

Minhyuk shakes his head roughly, moaning at both the vibrations and the feeling of his cock trapped by Kyung’s jeans. “I want to fuck you, if that’s good with you?”

“We can do anything you want,” Kyung says, kissing him again. “You can be greedy tonight.” He moves off the bed to strip, and Minhyuk takes a good look at him, the soft plane of his stomach, his slim hips, his nipples and his cock, and Minhyuk feels frenzied wanting to touch him, settles for Kyung touching him when he gets back on top of him, skin on skin, chokes back a moan when Kyung strokes him. He slicks up Minhyuk’s dick and sinks down in one easy slide, lips forming an O shape as he adjusts, eyes wide, and Minhyuk -- he has so much affection for Kyung, not just now but all the time, when Kyung will hold his hands when it’s cold and he’s forgotten his gloves, their feet making tracks in the snow; when he’s too tired from a performance and Kyung will let Minhyuk rest on him in the van, whispering nonsense things and new song lyrics into his ear until he falls asleep. Even when Minhyuk’s mad at him like he used to get when they shared a dorm he was always aware of where Kyung was, his movements in the room, keeping track of how many minutes had gone by since Kyung last said his name, how relieved he was when Kyung’s voice lost its sharp edges. All of his feelings come back to him now, in the rush of fulfilment he gets from fucking up into Kyung as best he can, from Kyung dropping down to meet him, the touch of his palms branding Minhyuk’s chest and his gaze heavy and full. Minhyuk’s close to coming in minutes, from Kyung, from the stimulation of the vibrator. It’s too much but he needs more.

“Choke me,” he says, feeling bold, “please.”

Kyung’s eyes widen a fraction and he hesitates before he brings his hands up around Minhyuk’s neck, just holding, not pressing down. “I haven’t done this before.”

“Put your hands under my jaw, cut off the circulation.” Minhyuk feels the time sensitivity as his body nears the edge of orgasm.

It must show on his face because Kyung says, “Don’t come yet, I’m not done with you.” He moves his hands up and tightens his grip. He’s gentle with Minhyuk, his pressure light but enough, and he gets into the rhythm of choking Minhyuk while bouncing on his cock easily, a natural.

As Minhyuk starts to feel lightheaded, all his senses intensify, the feeling of Kyung stretched around his cock so good, and Minhyuk can only take a minute of it before the pressure builds in his stomach and he’s choking out, “Please, let me come, Kyung, please.”

Kyung leans forward until they’re breathing each other’s air, whispering, “You’ve been so good, you can come,” and Minhyuk does, spilling hot and thick into him, stomach clenching, Kyung’s muscles milking it out of him, his body shaking like oak trees in the wind. Kyung lets go of his neck, pets his cheek, the other hand pumping his own cock until he comes with a cry, spurting all over Minhyuk’s stomach, clenching around his soft cock, kissing him, open-mouthed and sweet. He raises himself up and lets Minhyuk slip out of him. When Kyung reaches around himself to turn the vibrator off, Minhyuk lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thank you,” he murmurs against Kyung’s lips, and Kyung sighs, lets his body go lax, buries his face in the crook of Minhyuk’s shoulder.

“You’re welcome.”

Minhyuk knows they should clean up, get dressed, figure out where they are, but it’s too inviting to just sit here with Kyung a hot weight in his lap, letting the gust of his breath warm Minhyuk’s shoulder, so fuck it, he thinks, and does that instead.

//

Minhyuk fingers the key card, his other hand curled around the door knob, heartbeat steady but his breath held. There’s no telling what’s beyond the door, what Kyung meant by asking him to come here, it’s just. They’ve been fucking every day for the past week, trading breath and kisses and _I love you_ s, and -- it’s a lot. It’s the most intense relationship Minhyuk’s ever had, maybe because he didn’t care enough about his other relationships to invest as much energy. Whatever’s waiting for him on the other side is something he needs to prepare himself for.

When he opens the door, someone’s soft moaning greets him before he even steps in. Jiho’s moaning, and Taeil’s answering, “You like that?” ring out, the air already heavy with the stench of sweat and sex. As he rounds the door he follows a trail of clothes that lead to a four poster bed on which sits the rest of Block B, all in various states of undress and touching each other, moving around on it as if they are one lifeform of feelings made flesh. The door clicks shut behind him and Kyung, the only one of them still dressed, turns where he’s kneeling on the bed between Jaehyo’s thighs.

“I couldn’t make them wait,” he says, with a shrug. “You know how they are.” He bounds off the bed to meet Minhyuk, all fire and energy, looking pleased with himself.

“You made this happen?” Minhyuk asks, a little in awe, though he shouldn’t be. Kyung’s gift is that he can make anything happen. He glances over to where Taeil’s sitting in the vee of Pyo’s thighs and has his hand in Jiho’s underwear, while Yukwon straddles Jaehyo’s hips. “You’re amazing.”

“It really wasn’t that hard,” Kyung says, but he still looks pleased. “They were practically begging for an excuse. You really started something with this lot.”

“And you?” Minhyuk asks, a smile working its way onto his face.

Kyung shrugs again, trying not to smile. “I could take it or leave it.”

Jiho moans again, louder this time, and Minhyuk glances back to see Taeil’s taken him into his mouth, and now Yukwon and Jaehyo are kissing. Kyung steps forward towards the bed, before he turns back, waiting for Minhyuk, something deep and dark and hungry in his eyes that makes Minhyuk’s breath catch in his chest. Kyung holds out his hand and Minhyuk takes it.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/pukkyung) oop


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